Of Uchihas And Harunos
by Nagareboshi Star
Summary: Post-Canon. One-shot collection. Story number one: When Sakura presents Sasuke with the unforeseen news of her pregnancy, he does not know what to think. All he can do is panic. The Uchiha way.
1. Speechless Talk

_**A/N: **Yes, you guessed right. I read the final chapters of Naruto the other day, and now I'm in total hyped up Naruto mode. So, **warning, spoilers for all of you who have not read the chapters/only watch the anime or whatever. ****D****o not read on.**_

_To all of you who know already; I am freaking out because, literally, everything I hoped for actually happened by the end of Naruto. I really cannot await the movie(s), now._

_So anyway, blame my dear friend Mythika who just babbles random stuff about Sasuke and Sakura and their daughter and gives me IDEAS! This will be a one-shot series revolving around the Uchiha family and new generation children, whenever inspiration strikes. Currently, three ideas have been born, of which two are still in progress, and one can be read right here. Status is complete, because, as said, it's One-shots._

_So enjoy, squeal, and don't forget to **review at the end,** sweethearts_

_P.S.: Awesome cover image was found on tumblr :P  
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_EDIT: One of you pointed out that I wrote "vermilion" instead of "viridian" at one point. I always, **always** get those two mixed up subconsciously. No, her eyes are not red, so do not worry ;) I cannot thank the person personally as it was a guest log-in, but in case you read it, thank you very much!_

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><p><strong><span>Speechless Talk<span>**

"_I'll see you when I'm back..."_

_He remembered her face, greeting him at the gates; her eyes a complexion made out of the deepest essence of the ocean, combined with the most glorious emerald Sasuke could have ever imagined to exist._

_Her warming smile, shooting through his body, rattling his spine, causing something pleasant and vaguely familiar to spread vigorously across the bridge of his nose. _

"_Okaerinasai, Sasuke-kun." Sweet and melodic; her voice flowed like a breeze of soothing, cool air on a horridly hostile summer's day._

_Before he could fully comprehend what occurred, she had embraced him, holding his body tightly against her smooth, elegant and fitting curves. _

_After all this time..._

_She had waited..._

_His heart jolted uncharacteristically._

_He did not deserve her...  
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"_I'm home."  
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><p>With startling cognition, he awoke, feeling something was off before it even transpired.<p>

Sunlight glistened through the thin, semi-transparent curtains, tickling across his skin, brightening up patches of his bedroom.

Something weighty shifted beside him in discomfort.

He may correct; _their_ bedroom.

Turning to the side, eggshell blankets sliding off his naked torso, he was met with the back of his wife facing him. She had a slim, silky beige top on that concealed barely any skin at all. He came to learn these past years that Sakura disliked too much clothing whilst in bed and outside of the colder, more demanding winter months.

The top rode up just in the slightest, revealing pale, tender skin which flexed.

She shifted.

And turned to face him, eyes shut softly, her expression serene yet...strained.

Observing her button nose wrinkle, her eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as her flushed cheeks moved up, strands of rebellious rose hair masking her beautiful features, Sasuke frowned.

She seemed to be battling with something. Maybe a nightmare? His plain, expressionless face concentrated on her vivid one, taking in every tiny detail. Her cherry lips twitched, saliva glittering on the surface.

Sasuke felt the peculiar urge within him to focus on those lips, feeling himself being compelled by their alluring...

No.

Concentrate, Uchiha.

Sakura shifted again, twisting her head away, the nape of her peachy neck being revealed to his obsidian orbs. Pink hair swung around, curling here, jutting out there, caressing her cheeks and slender shoulders. Involuntarily, his heart began to beat more ferociously, his ribcage becoming a cubicle much too small and crammed for it to fully excess itself.

Maybe, indeed, a nightmare. He knew those all too well; the memories of his past were like relentless wraiths, haunting him during every hour, so long he shut his eyes and be it for a second.

A wind picked up, rustling through the tilted window and leaving a lingering coolness behind. The raven-head's skin began to crawl from the sensation. It seemed the air had a mind of its own, spiralling through their bedroom, taking with it the overwhelming scent of cherries and forest fruits, as well as something sweet, yet flowery, defining the very essence that made out Sakura's fragrance.

Despite his prior repulsion towards sweet comestibles, Sakura's odour never grew repulsive. On the contrary; it was addictive. Something about it tugged at his nostrils, pulled at the inside of his body, grasping his lungs and heart and squeezing with delicacy. It was neither painful nor bothersome. It was lulling, somewhat soothing, like a promise sealed with an oath. Or a glass of cold water after a sweaty training session. Similar to the feeling of fire on a cold winter's night.

And all in all, it had an alluring, near to deadly nature about it that caused all of Sasuke to arouse without control.

He would never get enough of her.

His left hand reached out, wanting to touch her skin and feel the supple texture, yet he stopped in mid-air. He frowned at the bandaged limb, moving his fingers ever so slowly to test out the sensation of movement. It felt strange and foreign, but at the same time, it was completely a part of him as his actual arm had been.

Shortly after Sasuke returned from his long travels, Sakura had taken him to the hospital, deciding it was a fit time to take care of that missing arm of his, and return it so that he could shine in his former shinobi glory again.

Her concentrated visage; sweat forming at the top of her brow, threatening to spill across her face, as viridian eyes bore into the stump of his left arm, carefully attaching the cells of Hashirama onto it, allowing for the appendages to become a part of Sasuke's entire body. She knew she could not allow herself a single mistake.

He had touched her with that hand, and those fingers. And not always innocently.

The bed bounced again, warmth radiating off onto Sasuke from her body as she shuffled, a strangled moan erupting from her lips. It caught him out of his reverie.

He was about to call out silently and question what was displeasing her so much that she writhed and turned in their bed, maybe wake her carefully from the seeming nightmare, when, without further warning, Sakura flung herself up, duvets flying in a heap and landing on top of the Uchiha.

He scowled into the darkness that now enveloped him, pushing the covers off. All he saw were eager feet padding desperately across wooden planks, thrusting open the bedroom door and storming into what seemed to be the...

_Vomit._

Bathroom.

Onyx orbs widened marginally, confused at the obscene noises he was forcefully listening to. Evidently, his wife was not well; _sick_, most likely, if she hurling the life out of her stomach was any indication.

It could not have been their dinner; it was perfect, the way it _always_ was. She knew what he wanted and when he wanted it. She cooked with pride and care, and the taste never ceased to astound him. And besides, _he_ felt perfectly fine.

_'The hospital'_ Sasuke thought with a growing glower.

She loved to overwork herself with endless shifts, pouring into the night and keeping her awake for far longer than was healthy. Adding to that the many patients that bought with them a concoction of bacteria and bad health, she was constantly exposed to life-threatening illnesses.

Sakura nearly was, so Sasuke mustered with a wry smirk, in more danger daily than _he_. When he went to complete special endeavours in Naruto's name, or decided to continue travelling for some short weeks, maybe a month or two (but never longer, for his heart began to yearn for a certain pink-haired someone, much to his..._annoyance_) or simply completed a highly risky mission, he was never under as many threats as his wife.

He did not like that. But telling his wife so only earned him a light-hearted chuckle, a swift shake of the head and an, "Oh, Sasuke-kun, you can be so sweet."

Which all combined irritated him, and admittedly, he did not like that reaction from Sakura. He expected her to comply by his wishes, and adhere to his worries.

For he _always_ worried about her; since before their days together as _an item_. Secretly, with careful gazes and lingering thoughts; no matter how many times he tried to deny them, or suppress them, or ignore them. They were there. And gradually, they drove him mad.

"Sakura." He called out with his deep, velvety voice, hoping she would respond with something _other_ than barfing noises.

Finally having had enough of her implacable retching, Sasuke got up, the cold morning winds tugging at his abs and chest, yet he ignored it with a frown.

Approaching the entrance to their shared bedroom, he stepped outside as silently as a cat in the dark, halting when he stood in front of the bathroom.

She had just flushed the toilet, wiping her mouth and rinsing it out at the sink. She was shaking ever so slightly, her brows still furrowed painfully above her viridian eyes, which, much to his chagrin, stayed concealed from his view.

Sasuke scrutinized her tense composure. Sakura brushed the back of her hand against her forehead, pushing locks of pink aside.

"If I didn't know any better" he began once more, charcoal eyes laced with the tiniest hints of worry boring into her, "I'd tell you to go see a doctor."

Finally, _finally_ (and why the hell did his breath stop for the slightest second? He was an _Uchiha_, god dammit!) she revealed her malachites to him, eyes sparkling with morning glory. She brushed through her bangs, not speaking a single word, just staring at his complexion, and he at hers.

"Need I drag you to Tsunade?" When had he become such a teasing man, smirking at her perplexed face?

He enjoyed it too much, for her eyes grew wider slightly.

"I want to see you try." She retorted, her voice raspy.

"Not like you'd put up much of a challenge." He could tell her scowl returning, and her shoulders broadening. She was going to cross her arms and demand in a very discording way _what_ exactly she was to interpret into his words, when he quickly added, "You practically _live_ at the hospital."

Her prior demeanour faded, and the tension within her limbs slacked, "I'll ask Shizune or someone to check me out." She shook it off, obviously not giving it much consideration, much to Sasuke's disgruntlement.

"Don't forget." Were his final words before he turned, leaving her behind in the bathroom as he made his way to the kitchen.

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><p>When Sakura returned that afternoon, Sasuke had already been back since an hour.<p>

His meeting with Naruto, alias _the Dobe_ had not been very long. They discussed a few political matters in and around Konoha, considered various new buildings they wanted to add and some small-fry problems that needed to be taken care of. A few training subjects were also debated about, as well as recommendation letters for diverse students into higher ranks.

Naruto had to leave in a hurry, together with Kakashi, in order to continue his training as soon-to-be-Hokage. Watching his former Sensei and team-mate talk nonsensically about vital matters was...unnerving and amusing at the same time.

Currently, the Uchiha husband sat on the porch of their house, going through his weapon pouch and polishing the smooth steel with a cloth.

He took in the sound of thudding feet which halted behind him, the all too familiar aroma of his wife invading his nostrils mercilessly, and the nervous tension that began to fill the air.

"Sasuke-kun?" her mellifluous voice queried.

"Hn." He kept on working, not taking note of the increasing uneasiness Sakura was currently facing.

Nor could he see vibrant glitter of her eyes, the flushed hue her cheeks had or the fact that she radiated not only nervousness, but _eagerness_, and thrilling, stupefying _glee_.

"I have something to tell you." It was her unspoken demand for him to turn around and face her properly, instead of treating her absentmindedly.

Placing down the last kunai, and neatly folding together his piece of cloth, he twisted his body so that he now faced her. He glanced upwards, watching her tilt her head as she blushed. She looked incredibly adorable and mesmerizing, then and there.

Never would he be able to _speak_ such compliments, though. He was more of a _practical_ flatterer. Thankfully, Sakura was well aware of that fact.

Still not pleased with her husbands seeming lack of attention, Sakura creased her eyebrows, silently pleading him to stand up and face her properly. Without much reluctance, Sasuke complied, placing a hand into his pocket as he stood opposite of Sakura.

The rose-haired kunoichi began to bite at her lower lip. She was evidently excited. What was she so joyous about? That she did _not_ have cancer? What was it Shizune, or Tsunade, whomever, had discovered at the hospital? Or maybe it had naught to do with that?

"I'm pregnant." The terms left her mouth so rapidly that it took him several seconds to register that she had said something at all, and what it ultimately was.

"Congratulations." And the response came faster than he could conjure up a chidori.

Sasuke observed the shock forming on her face, eyes widening in horror. Before he would suffer under the consequences of her undoubtedly imposing fury, due to his lack of happiness upon the exciting news, he turned, sitting himself down onto the porch and grasping his shuriken.

Sakura lowered her head, eyes still as large as saucepans. Her hands fisted, her shoulders tensed, the scowl returned to her face.

Yet before she could burst and fully chastise Sasuke for his reaction, or lack thereof, she noted the stillness with which he sat.

The shuriken lay limply within his hand, the cloth resting atop his lap. He was scrunching it up, _hard_.

"Sasuke-kun?" She walked beside him, lowering herself onto the porch next to the man of her heart. Only then did she see his facial expression.

A sight, that, in all of her life, Sakura had never seen before and most likely never would again. It was new, and strange, and comical. It was _so not Sasuke._

He was _shocked_.

A million different emotions ran through his eyes, his lips twitching, his face paling even more, eyes glazing over. He must have been deep in thought, completely overwhelmed by the news she had presented him with mere seconds ago.

All Sasuke could hear was the rushing of his gurgling blood and the tireless palpitating of his heart. And all he could think about was the fact that, soon, in most likely nine months, if he recalled correctly, there would be a mini-him toddling around, demanding his care and protection.

Or a mini-her.

A mini-both, most likely.

He did not know what he felt. What he _should_ feel. It was all a mix and blend and chaotic conundrum. It made no sense.

Sasuke jerked when a warm hand covered his, pulling the shuriken delicately from his grasp and laying it back down, before it returned to intertwine itself with his fingers.

Sakura smiled warmingly at him, her eyes so full of bliss he knew she had problems containing herself, "It's okay, Sasuke-kun. To be scared."

"I'm going to be a terrible father." Was his stern response.

Sakura giggled, squeezing his fingers, "No, you're not. You'll do great." She turned her eyes to glance at their garden, obviously lost in thought. She was somewhere else; somewhere much too paradisical that he could join.

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><p>That evening, when Sakura served their dinner (they had both eaten hearty lunches, thus the Uchiha matriarch decided for something light for dinner), Sasuke's mouth rambled on more than he believed it ever would in all of his life.<p>

"We need a room."

Sakura arched an eyebrow, setting the plate of lettuce and finely cut tomatoes down in front of her husband.

"Care to elaborate?"

"For the baby." his eyes met hers, holding her gaze firmly, "We'll need a cot. And a wardrobe. And toys. _Lots_ of toys. A changing table, a stock of diaper, and food that is easy to chew. Wait, babies don't have teeth, right?" He was glaring at his salad.

"Sasuke, don't stress yourself _now_. We have time to sort all of it-"

"We'll need to make the house baby-proof. The kid could hurt itself easily, anytime. And we need to consider if she'll join the-"

"She?" Sakura was munching on her lettuce, grabbing her glass of water and gulping some of it down.

"I mean..." he frowned some more. If looks could burn, his tomato would have been charred, "I don't know if it'll be a girl..."

The light-hearted chortle of his wife caused him to avert his eyes back towards her.

"What would you call her?" Sakura questioned, her voice ever so soft and penetrating. It quenched the raging fire of anxiety and fear within him, coating his vibrating nerves in a thick layer of soft, cool wool. She had that magical effect on him; only _now_ did he take more note of it, now that he had decided to let her in, completely.

For truthfully, she had _always_ had that effect on him.

"Salad." What was wrong with him? His brain was a garbled mess of incoherent responses and unsuccessful logic.

"_Salad_?" She nearly spat said food out of her mouth as Sakura burst into a tear-filled laughter. It took her a few minutes to catch herself, clutching her stomach and wheezing as she wiped at the corner of her eyes, "Care to repeat that, Sasuke-kun?"

"I...I don't know...I wasn't thinking." _God_ he sounded weak. Yet his facial demeanour betrayed nothing; the same, emotionless, nonchalant expression as always. The only give-aways were the slanted brows and his wife's incredible skill at reading the sentiments that flickered within his orbs.

Sakura giggled some more, placing her chin on her right hand as she leaned forwards, over the dining table, "_Sarada_. Sounds sweet."

Believing his counterpart to be mocking him, Sasuke focused his eyes onto hers, earning himself a devious smile, "Go on."

"Go on what?"

"Say whatever you need to stay. I take it the_ really_ stupid remarks will follow next time I see Naruto."

Sakura shrugged, unconcerned, "He named his son _Boruto_. _Sarada_ is not the worst of options."

Either she was trying to soothe his gradually increasing uneasiness, or she was outright teasing him.

One way or another; when Sasuke's first born daughter came to view the light of this world, she was officially called _Uchiha_ _Sarada_.

He asked himself if she would ever hate him for that decision, someday. Uchiha's had the tendency to hold grudges after all.

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><p><em><strong>AN:** The inspiration came when my friend showed me a post on tumblr where Sakura told Sasuke she was pregnant, and he simply "congratulated" her and internally panicked. And yeah, let's all have a laugh at Sasuke's and Sakura's daughter's name. Like, ferserious. SALAD!? _

_So please, **review** if you squealed because **SasuSaku is now CANON, and because they called their daughter SARADA, and GENERALLY TO SPILL OUT YOUR EMOTIOOONS! **_

_Peace~_


	2. Mutual Understanding

_**A/N: **First off, I want to tell you all that you are AMAZING. And I don't think amazing puts it. You are...just...like...fantastic awesome super-star brilliant wonderful people. The amount of feedback I got for the first shot? BREATHTAKING! I have never gotten so much positive response for any of my fanfictions, and I was mega happy! Every review and every favourite as well as alert makes me want to write more and more._

_So, you all have waited far too long. Here is the second One-Shot featuring Uchiha Sarada (who has now been added to the character list, yay!)_

_**Summary: **There were days when Uchiha Sarada wanted to throttle her father for the lack of attention he presented her with. She should have realised earlier that talking about it with someone who understood you was a better way of dealing with the problem than just running away._

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><p><span><strong>Mutual Understanding<strong>

She could not _believe_ it!

He had left; without a single word of valediction spoken to her; without informing her, warning her of the lack of his somewhat endearing presence the next day. All her futile attempts at making him proud;_ noticing_ how well she was doing and that she needed no new mobile phone or miniature _katana_ sword for her birthday, just _him._

Just her father, spending quality time with his daughter before he left on another endeavour. Or mission. Or both. Whatever it was he constantly discussed with uncle Naruto and mother that seemed so secretive.

Sarada sighed. She should have known, really. When he and her mother had stayed awake last night, in the living room, with only a flickering candle alight so as to not disturb her. Yet despite their best and most well intended efforts, she had snuck around, peeking past the corner of the corridor.

Without her glasses, however, she could only make out the blurred silhouettes of her parents as they spoke in a hushed tone.

Her mother had stood close to her father, who kept a hand on her left cheek, seemingly soothing her with terms the way he had once done when Sarada awoke from a heart-splitting nightmare.

They moved closer several times, just to part again briefly. The young Uchiha was not sure what exactly it was they did, albeit her hardest attempts at squeezing her eyes into better view. She could only imagine it was something like kissing. _Yuck. _She need not observe that.

She remembered stepping out into the dim light, softly calling for her mother, who turned, stepping away from her husband to kneel down in front of the obsidian-haired girl.

"Is everything okay?" Despite their now closer proximity, Sarada had trouble defining the details of her mother's face with her eyes. But she knew from the back of her memory just how beautiful her mother was; an artistry of human complexions the small child hoped to adopt herself as soon as she grew up.

"Yeah. Did we wake you?" Her tone was soft and graceful. Just the way Sarada loved it, as it soothed her woes.

The girl shook her head leisurely, gazing with large orbs at the rose-haired female.

"You should go back to bed, angel. It's late, and you have school tomorrow." She did not want to leave. She wanted to know what her parents were talking about. Even though a small fraction of her feared the most logical answer, the inner apprehension and intuition warning her that it was anything but pleasant.

But not knowing seemed worse _than_ knowing, right now. At least to the seven-year-old.

"What are you and dad talking about?" She asked, and her tone was a lot more tender and frightful than usually. She had such a strong demeanour and pose, per usual; why was fear consuming her _now_?

"Sara-chan..." The pained voice her mother had now adopted spoke volumes for itself.

"Sara." The stern, respect-demanding sound of her father caused a small chill to run down her spine, and she shrunk into herself, "Go to sleep." It was a command, spoken with the tiniest hint of endearment and concern, as well as a minuscule, hidden amount of guilt, so finely wrapped up in the layers of authority that for any outsider, it would be hard _not_ to miss.

"Yes, father." Sarada's heart sank speedily, a frown caressing her brows as she lowered her eyes. The girl felt her mother kiss her temple sweetly, before she turned around and receded into her bedroom.

"Did you have to be so-" the last word's of her mother's scolding were muffled by the distance.

The next day, the black-haired Uchiha woke up to leave for school, not having had the chance to talk to her father that morning.

"_He is tired from the journey. He's still asleep."_ her mother had responded with a smile as she handed her her packed lunch.

If only the Uchiha matriarch had not left out the part with him _not being there when she returned._

Uchiha Sasuke, Sarada's jerk of a father, who sometimes was simply so _shannaro_, had gone without one. Singular. Word. Of. A. Farewell.

She wanted to _scream_.

Thus, it was no surprise that, after she returned from school in a rushed manner, flinging her bag in the corner, greeting her mother curtly just to inquire for her papa, she was to be disappointed.

"Darling...he...left." There was an excusing smile from her mother, grand viridian eyes glancing apologetically into Sarada's, "He was only home briefly. He needed to leave this morning."

The young Uchiha's shoulders sunk, her eyes large, sparkling orbs, brows furrowing in disbelief, "But...he wanted to show me how to throw shuriken correctly." It was the first and, honestly, only thing that came to her mind.

_He had promised._

She had not seen him in _weeks_, and barely after a _day_, he was _gone_. _Again_.

Without a further word to be exchanged, Sarada stormed out of the house, racing across the pathway and heading deeper into the city of Konoha.

She lost herself in between skyscrapers, busy roads and talking crowds. She was not crying. No. Crying was for the weak, and the lonely. She was neither. Just utterly, deeply, thoroughly _disappointed_.

Hence, a scowl marring her facial features, she trudged along ignoring all passer-bys, simply glaring deathly holes into the pavement. Sarada was coming up with a hundred different cuss words and insulting terms to direct mentally towards her father, hoping he would feel her anger and wrath no matter how many miles away he was.

Just then, the boiling heat of aggravation intensifying like a fire being stoked, the girl clenched her fists menacingly, brows creasing violently as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"_SHANNARO!_" She roared, startling many innocent civilians who halted to gaze questioningly at her. Others quickly threw her a scalding, disapproving glance before they continued on their way.

The Uchiha heir did not give a single damn. May everyone laugh and point the way they sometimes did with Boruto. Right now, she needed to vent steam.

Her feet began to increase their pace before she could register what was happening, and suddenly, Sarada was racing along the path into the older part of Konoha, past homes and shops and some elder, rebuilt complexes. Twisting her heel to fling herself around a corner and down a narrower street, she was not prepared when she smacked full body into an obstacle.

Sarada's glasses jerked off, clattering to the ground. She herself was dazed for several seconds as her feet staggered backwards.

The person in front of her huffed, righting itself. Once the girl caught herself, she attempted to recognize who or what it was that had bumped into her, or she into him, but her new blindness was hindering her from making out many details.

It was a strange mingle of colours that were both bright and dark. Suddenly, it moved, bending forwards, and before she could comprehend exactly what it was doing, her glasses were held underneath her chin.

Reluctantly, Sarada took them, placing them back onto the bridge of her nose. Finally, her vision cleared, everything taking back their acute, sharp forms and shapes.

It was now that she had to note that the very _thing_ he had crashed into was, actually, _Boruto_. He wore a dumbfounded expression, one of his eyebrows was raised and he began to scratch the back of his neck.

"You okay?" He inquired, looking a little depleted himself.

"Yeah..." she was back to glaring at him, the way her eyes automatically did whenever they met his form.

It was not that she despised him. To be truthful, the girl did not _know_ what exactly she felt whenever she saw the riotous blonde.

He was loud and vibrant and defined _so much trouble and nonsense. _It was not exactly her repertoire.

Not that it had _always_ been like that.

Their fathers were brothers. Well, at least they _viewed_ each other as that; in reality they were simply very close friends who shared a special, meaningful bond. Back in her _even_ younger days, when Sarada's father spent a lot more time at home, tending to her and teaching her all sorts of things and in general, being the father she _wanted_ him to be, she spent a lot of time with Boruto also.

Uncle Naruto would come by, in his pre-Hokage days, having Boruto latched around his left hand. He would banter excitedly with her parents whilst she and Boruto were left to entertain themselves.

It often ended in small, simplistic games of tag or hide and seek. Sometimes they would sit together and draw, or watch a movie, or sneak into her father's office and hack into his computer, where they would research all sorts of strange pictures or clips and laugh at the bizarre realm of the _internet_.

She did not have much of a problem hacking her father's electronic devices. Being an Uchiha, she had the knack to be devious and cunning. Yet she was also a _Haruno_, which allowed for quite some deep-level cleverness to surface every now and then.

Boruto was fun to hang around with, at least in their younger days. They would laugh a lot, and talk a lot, and play a lot. At times, they would pretend to be enemy ninja, fighting each other, acting like they were chucking shuriken or kunai at one another.

Even so, when Boruto's father became the seventh Hokage, and Sasuke resumed his travels to complete specific missions and tasks and both children were neglected by either fathers, things changed.

Boruto, the boy who would laugh and try hard, who would take grand care of his little sister and be the overly protective big brother he always made out to be, became what her mother called a _troublemaker_.

He began to play pranks (a habit, so her aunt had declared, which he had from his father. Who, in return, got it from his mother) and vandalized various buildings in Konoha.

It _really_ commenced when he hid uncle Naruto's ramen cups, or replaced his morning coffees with water mixed with dirt from their gardens. He liked to place flower petals inside his sandwiches, and then later on, he would paint the Hokage monuments, tease his teachers at school, spray the neighbour wet using their hose or cause the fire alarm at school to set off, so that immediate evacuation was called for.

The blonde, light-eyed male never ran out of ideas, and, much to Sarada's dismay, he became worse and more ridiculous with every cantrip he undertook. Soon, they grew apart; Sarada disapproving of his childish behaviour and constant, somewhat successful yet futile attempts at gaining his father's attention. At least she _believed_ that was what he wanted. She could never bring herself to look away.

He so easily distracted her. A small, somewhat unimportant part of her even understood and admired him for his relentlessness. All he desired was for his father to spend some quality time with him, and Sarada understood that feeling all too well.

It became a habit, thus, for her to return home, miffed and confused by Boruto's actions, not knowing how to emotionally interpret them, and speak her complaints to her mother.

"_Boruto again?_" she would laugh with a shake of her head, pink strands flinging around her face.

Sarada did not know what to make out of the very Uzumaki heir that currently stood in front of her, a nonchalant expression plastered to his striped face.

"What were you running away from?" He questioned, ultimately pulling her out of her reminiscing.

"N-None of your business!" She cursed herself for the stutter, mustering her best and most intimidating glare (she had often watched her father glare at uncle Naruto, and tried her best to imitate it whilst looking into the mirror).

"Gee, alright, no reason to get all defensive." Boruto shrugged, frowning himself, "If you don't want to talk to me, fine. I'm not in the mood, anyway." A dejected expression crossed his teal orbs, shoulders slacking considerably as he lowered his view to the ground.

Sympathy began to course through her and she could not help but relax, her expression softening involuntarily, "You dad again, huh?" She was surprised at her attempt to small-talk with him, but shrugged the weirdness of it off.

She did not like him, not the way her mother or aunty Ino claimed her to, she just _understood_.

And now, she _wanted_ to be understood, too.

"Mhm." His eyes were still averted from her, his hands now digging into his pockets, "He's an ass, as always." Boruto muttered lowly.

"Mine isn't better." She responded with a softened tone. Her heart sunk once more at the memory of her father; how long would it take _this_ time before she saw him again and got to spend some time in his presence? More than just _a day. _

"I saw him leave this morning. Didn't uncle Sasuke _just_ return?" He was glancing at her now, a curious expression on his face. He was being openly interested.

Sarada nodded with a grimace, "Yup, and left. Without telling me." She pouted, then frowned again, "How do you know? Weren't we in school?"

"It was recess time and I used that to sneak away from the campus and go prank my dad."

She sighed, a sense of ridicule coming over her. Would that _ever_ grow old for him?

"What were you doing this time?" The roll of her eyes was palpable in her voice.

"I was going to steal his laptop and hack into it so that I could mess around with his files and desktop, but uncle Shikamaru caught me before I got that far. I was being super stealthy; until I couldn't move. He had used his special shadow technique to catch me." Proper frustration was evident as he glowered at nothing in particular.

"Well, _obviously_ he caught you. You have the stealth of an elephant." Sarada chuckled with a smirk, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Boruto redirected his glare towards her, "Not like _you_ could have done it any better." His features then lightened, "What do _you _do to gain your father's attention?"

He was not challenging her, he was asking simply out of curiosity. Maybe to catch the one or other good tip? Or to simply talk and rant? She was not sure.

Sarada shrugged, a little embarrassed at her next words, "I chucked juice down his shirt once just before he intended to leave. He had to postpone his departure and wait until mom had cleaned his stuff before he could go...and...I hid his _kusanagi_ once. But he saw right through that. He got quite angry."

Boruto laughed with mirth, hands still in his pockets as he smiled at her, "Really? _Nice_.But, when he comes home, he _does_ spend time with you, right?"

"It's kind of hard to get his attention. He is always reading or doing some work or whatnot. And sometimes he leaves with my mom. I poke him and prod him and show him what I learnt at school, but keeping his attention on me for more than five minutes is a challenge." The tension left her posture, she felt her good mood increase and a smile cross her lips at the thought of her miffed father.

"You should paint his sword pink or something, that would throw him off! Or send him a postcard which explodes and dyes his face green or something! He'd look ridiculous, especially if you take the stuff that doesn't wash out easily." Boruto was chortling at his ideas, grinning the way only his own father was capable of doing.

"Yeah, maybe" Sarada shrugged, smiling too, "but he'd just _hn_ at me and glare."

"Oh yeah, he _hn's _a lot! Dad always jokes about how he apparently has a stick up his ass most of the time."

"My dad often tells me uncle Naruto is a loud-mouthed idiot with an attention-complex."

"That sounds like me more than my dad." Boruto hollered loudly, and Sarada admired the fact that he could laugh at himself so effortlessly.

"Well, he claims you are just like how your dad used to be." There was a giggle evident in the sound of her own voice.

"Really?" He stopped his reverie of laughter, large cerulean eyes penetrating hers, "I doubt that..."

"Well, he grew up without parents...so..." She shrugged, not wanting to say something offending or wrong and get scolded for it.

"One way or another, he's an idiot. He always works and comes home late, and sometimes forgets his robes the next day. He went to work once without his trousers, _that_ was hilarious. Mom went all red when she ran after him with them in hand."

The young Uchiha grinned at the thought of uncle Naruto and his amusing antics. She liked her loud, boisterous and warming uncle a lot; he had an endearing comical nature she sometimes wished her _own_ father to have. But evidently, he was far from a perfect parent; if Boruto went to such extents just to gain his attention.

"Mine pulls a funny face if my mother forgets to put a decent amount of tomatoes into his packed lunch. He never _verbally_ complains, though, he has too much pride." She bit her lip.

"Sounds like_ you_ too!"

Immediately, a scarlet hue spread across her cheeks as she scowled at him again, "N-No it doesn't!"

"Oh come on, Sarada! I'm only teasing you." His trademark grin returned as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"Well...you have the same stupid expression your dad always has!" She rolled her tongue out at that, and Boruto stared openly at her, a little astounded at the outburst.

"Pff! You glower like your father! Same stick-up-the-ass face!"

"And you blush like your mother sometimes."

"And you are as pretty as yours."

They both halted, gazing at each other in shock. Boruto's eyes widened a fraction as he realised what he had said, heat invading his cheeks which flushed a vibrant crimson.

Sarada herself was dumbfounded, blinking several times as his last words sunk in.

"I-I mean...she is pretty, but not as pretty as _my_ mom!"

She shook her head, laughing, still flushed as she and her opposite continued to exchange teasing remarks, bantering playfully with each other.

It nearly felt like all those years ago; when they were but innocent infants playing in the front-garden of her house, or _his_, when his sister sat in the corner of the sand pit. The communication proved to be a lot more easy now than it ever had been. They were both facing a level of understanding which, secretly they had _always_ had, despite their best efforts to ignore it.

Yet there was no room for nostalgia as they continued to laugh and smile and then found themselves walking side by side through the calmer streets of Konoha.

They simply existed, here and then; two souls with similar familiar fates, which entailed two good-for-nothing fathers and a whole dosage of untold tricks. Sarada was sure to try out the colour bomb next time she sent her father a letter, and Boruto considered dying his father's Hokage robes purple.

It sure would cause quite the talk in Konoha.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **This was cute to write. Again, kudos to Mythika who talked about a scenario in which Sarada and Boruto complained about their fathers._

_**Please review** if you believe SaraxBoru would be cute! And generally if you liked this and want more! And what you thought! Really, I wanna hear it *hearts*_


	3. Heritage (Part 1)

_**A/N:** I want to say sorry already for any typos and errors you will most likely find in here. I am so terribly tired and busy with university work that I only have little time to write and check this. Also, the document editor on here often likes to juggle things around against my will. So I did try my best!_

_Sorry for the long absence, also. I have two different shots, actually, that I had written down but not proof-read, hence not posted. I will try to see to them ASAP, after this two-shot is done! It is, of course, in relation to the new mini-series by Kishimoto, and it is my twist of things in order to preserve and save as much SasuSaku feels as I can. That Sarada is Sakura's daughter is obvious, Kishimoto stated so himself, but obviously is annoyed about the fact that some fans simply twist it their way and claim otherwise. But that he broke SasuSaku apart so much and still lets Sakura seem all weak is a nuisance. For someone who claims to be the biggest SS fan in the entire world, he really knows how to mess things up between them. I do hope he has some incredible trump that he will come up with and take us all by positive surprise to make up for it..._

_Until then, enjoy this little adventure!_ **  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Heritage<span>**

"_Sarada." she uttered as his arm and callous hand curled carefully around the middle of her back in a slightly possessive manner, pulling her closer to his chest. She obliged, snuggling and sighing with a smile against the side of his neck._

"_Hmm?" He was drowsy, enervated from all the terrible formalities and courtesies he had been caught up in since before an hour ago. And that after he had only just returned from his travels; a constant journey that had entailed all sorts of physical barriers which nature herself had set up on a daily basis. It was exhausting, and he only just realised how strenuous the act had been until he lay in bed next to his newly wed wife in blissful ecstasy._

_He was glad to finally be home. _

"_I'd call a girl Sarada." Sakura giggled, her tender lips now pressing against the skin between the sturdy curve of his neck and collar bone. _

_Sasuke cracked an onyx eye open, hazy, dim light filtering into his iris and allowing, after several seconds, for his vision to focus somewhat. He began to see contours of a desk, thick, scattered textbooks and something akin to a lamp. Then he redirected his gaze down himself and noticed, with an involuntary tug at his heart, the resting form that lay next to him. There was something serene and meticulous about the sight; it was such a beautiful moment, causing a terribly warming feeling within him that he desired to keep for all eternity. He wanted her by his side forever._

_But could he really demand that?_

"_Sarada?"_

"_Yes." Her voice was tinged with amusement and the lingering intentions of a joke. He knew that tone; had heard it too many times for him __**not **__to recognize it. It had a slightly mischievous edge to it which always foretold something quirky was to come._

_He puffed air through his nose at a length, the sound not inaudible as his arm wrapped itself more tightly around her frame; near to urgently. Sasuke did his best not to jolt uncharacteristically as her delicate fingers came to rest upon his waist, drawing soothing circles. She bit her lip; he could tell. _

_He would always tell. _

"_Hn. You are ridiculous." A knowing smirk. Sakura most likely pouted in that fake manner of hurt she knew to mimic so perfectly. _

"_Why that? Don't you find it a __**healthy **__name?" The rosette had __a particularly hard time in __suppressing the giggle that tried vehemently to force itself through her plump, glistening lips._

"_Sakura." he spoke it warningly, but meant it as no threat. To prove that point, Sasuke leaned towards her, coating the length of her own neck in__curt kisses. Upon that, she simply __**had **__to laugh. _

"_S-Sasuke-kun! Stop!" Her appendages were pressed against his broad chest, one palm flat as she applied not too much pressure; he knew she had immaculate strength which could shatter the entire village in one go, he need no evidence for that. _

"_Why?" He mumbled hoarsely, deciding to suck onto her pulse and cause for a red blemish to form. Only did he not see it as a blemish; but as proof for her no longer belonging to herself. _

"_Because it tickles?" Some further pressure was applied against his chest, before she gave up quite readily at the alluring sensation of his lips upon her skin. _

"_No. The name."_

"_Well...she would be a mixed salad, wouldn't she?" Sakura's hand darted to her lips, muffling the chuckle that erupted right after she finished uttering the last term, "A-A Haruno-Uchiha salad."_

_He grunted._

"_Uchiha-Haruno, sorry." The female rolled her eyes. _

_A cloud crawled in front of the brilliant moon, dipping the bedroom into further darkness and robbing Sasuke of the sight of his mesmerizing wife as her fingers began to play with the short ends of his trimmed bangs. Nonetheless, the Uchiha could still make out the details of the tender viridian hue swirling within her eyes. Even the dimmest ray of moonlight was sufficient to allow for her oculars to shine like an entire galaxy. _

"_You have stupid ideas." Sasuke murmured, licking her underneath the jaw upon which she shuddered quite strongly. _

_Her legs stretched and quivered, entangled into his sturdy limbs like a mess of rope carelessly thrown into the corner of a room. Yet she did not mind the conundrum of bodies, nor the close proximity of his heated breath as it stroked like a caress across the nape of her neck. Sasuke had ceased his assault of teasing kisses, chest rising and falling at a steady, yet awake, pace. _

"_Imagine her first day at the academy. 'Listen up, kids, this is Haruno Sarada-'" She hissed when her husband suddenly bit down a little __**too **__painfully onto her collarbone, understanding the implication just as easily as she did when he had __grunted earlier on, "Alright, alright, you mute grouch. __**Uchiha **__Sarada it is." _

"_And you better remember that." A desperate shudder crept like a spider down her shivering spine; his lips were directly above her ear, his voice resonating with authority and power and a finite edge to it that was delicious as well as intimidating, "You are an __**Uchiha **__yourself now, so don't go around claiming otherwise." _

"_I won't." Came the somewhat humorous reply, but he knew she was blushing a maddening scarlet shade right now, "So...Uchiha Sarada it is then, in case we ever have a girl?" He knew she was teasing, but he could not help but grunt at that, "What? What's your opinion. Come on Sasuke-" again, she fought back the urge to burst into laughter, "-this is a serious matter." Her voice hitched and she muffled herself once more. _

_But Sasuke knew not what to say to such ridiculousness, so instead decided to pin her down and make love to her once more that night._

_Sakura gave in willingly._

_Even when he connected with her again after that; and again, and again until the barest streaks of early morning sunlight peeked over the mountains in a greeting._

_Would she hate him when she awoke the next day, finding herself cold and bare __as his side of he bed was empty?_

_Or when he packed those wedding photos and every single picture she had taken with the brand new camera Naruto had gifted her for her birthday, leaving her with no evidence of their united time except for her memories? _

_Would she hate him when he ceased writing his weekly letters to her? When he increased the distance between them after they had just entered into matrimony? _

_Would she hate him if he were to be gone for more than just months, or __**a **__year, but maybe year__**s**__? _

_He would miss her. Simply put, he would miss her. His heart would yearn, his blood would boil with longing and his lips would sink at the mere thought of being parted from her. But he had agreed to the mission Naruto had appointed __him __to __a while back already; it __was __one of such grand importance and delicate secrecy that not even __Sakura __could know a single detail, including the moment of their parting. It was of such high ranking that any contact to a civilian from Konoha was strictly forbidden in the execution phase. _

_Sasuke felt it his duty, the need of his being to complete the task at hand with utmost care and professionalism, even if it meant being separated from the one person he cherished more than __anything __else for too long to bear. For so long that it might just estrange them. For a time that might be sufficient for Sakura to get over him. _

_And that after they had only just married; after they were bound to one another for all eternity. He was being selfish, he knew; a terrible little brat that wanted and demanded but gave nothing valuable in return. Bile should rise in his throat and his eyes should sting, but he could not bring himself to stay._

_Would she hate him if he told her he loved her? _

* * *

><p>"You should tell her."<p>

Sakura did not budge as the wet cloth draped upon her forehead slid down her temple and bunched at her cheek.

"It is ridiculous to keep this a secret. All of it."

The pinkette lay perfectly still, listening to the rustling of leaves and the chiming of bells attached most likely to the roof of a terrace exit. For a curt moment, she was back in her bedroom, curled up against a sturdy, masculine form and taking in the scent of forest trees and peppermint.

"We both know you are no longer the weak little girl from so many years ago; you don't just simply _faint_ unless you _really_ have depleted every last energy-resource you own. And _that_ is pretty difficult, unless, of course, you decide to work night shifts at the hospital and cancel your sleeping-subscription. Ridiculous woman." Shizune ground her teeth slightly as the last words left her lips, all sarcasm gone. She dipped her hands into a cold bucket.

"I cannot tell her." Sakura responded softly, her eyes still shut tightly, "It...I cannot tell her."

"Sakura-"

"_No"_ for a minuscule moment, Sakura saw Sasuke's stern expression in front of her inner eye, his orbs boring into hers and lips a thin, resolute line, "if..." her emeralds finally opened, taking in the blinding sight of a simplistic ceiling, "if she knew, Shizune, it would make her very sad."

"The truth is often very sad." the former assistant of the Godaime encountered, wrenching the cloth in her hand and dabbing a little at the pinkette's forehead, "But Sarada is nearly twelve, she has a right to know. And also the strength." A heavy sigh left her lips as she shut her own eyes, frowning slightly, before her lips parted and she continued with her words, "She keeps standing there, at the gates, Sakura, waiting for a man she has only ever seen on aged photos. She does not understand the complexity of your relationship with your husband because you do not _elaborate,_ and that hence gives her a feeling of not belonging anywhere, of not knowing _who _she actually is!"

"_What_ do you want me to do!?" The Uchiha matriarch retorted with a shout, sitting upright and glaring Shizune down before she recoiled from her own reaction, "I-I'm sorry." Her fingers found rest against her slightly heated forehead, a thunderous pounding echoed at the back of her skull.

"You overwork yourself with those night shifts, trying to juggle between work and housekeeping as well as raising a child all on your _own_. If you do not want to tell Sarada that her father doesn't even _know_ of her existence, then at least tell her about all the work you do. She will respect that, for sure."

"Shizune, I appreciate your concern, but I don't want Sarada to have to worry about me. She has enough complexes because of Sasuke not being around – I don't need her to feel responsible for my well-being as well."

"She _already _worries! This is the third time in two months that you have collapsed from overexertion, and the poor girl does not know what ails her mother! She might believe you to be ill with some terrible sickness!"

"Don't be ridiculous" Sakura faced her once more, sliding the duvet from her body and positioning herself to stand up, "she thinks it is a weak character."

"But it is not."

"She thinks many things that aren't quite accurate; she is young, she does not need to know _all _the dark sides of life; we are at peace, not war, after all."

"Yeah, which is the reason she believes her father left on a very important mission and does not care for his family, when in reality he does not even know she _exists_!"

"Shizune!" Sakura roared, feeling irked about the fact that the usually so silent, modest and respectful woman who did not indulge into other peoples' business unless required was currently exaggeratedly _mad _at her.

The rosette _did_ understand, however, that they shared a bond much more intimate than others did; she had been Tsunade's student for many years, thus spending a lot of time with Shizune and also learning under her. In all the years that they worked and laughed and fought together, they bonded. Maybe it could be seen as a somewhat sisterly connection; Sakura very much liked the idea.

Nonetheless, she wished Shizune would mind her own business and leave her personal family problems to Sakura. She had enough stress and guilt and nightmares plague her that she did not need the conscientious voice of another person nagging her as well, no matter how close they were.

"You have waited, and waited, and waited, and you have been broken and hurt, and still you have faith. He left you after your _wedding_-_night_." The brunette halted, having spoken softly and continuing in doing so as her earnest eyes dug into Sakura's skull, "Don't you think Sarada should at least get to know a _fraction_ of the truth that makes out her parents?" She twisted her head slightly, trying to catch Sakura's downcast glance.

"What, no '_you should forget about Sasuke-kun and move on_' comment you want to add to that?" Sakura retorted with dry sarcasm, eyes soft and sorrowful.

Shizune did not respond, merely stared her down with a sympathetic look that spoke volumes for itself.

At first, the emerald-eyed woman did not rouse, her orbs near to shut, before she finally moved a little, deciding it was time to stand up.

"My shift at the hospital starts soon."

"Saku-"

"I don't want her to lose faith." with a determined demeanour, Sakura looked down at the former assistant who was crouching by the futon, "Not in love nor in her father. I want her to keep believing, and fighting, and hoping for both. I don't want her to lose faith..." She trailed off on the last part, a saddening, near to heart-breaking smile forming on her lips as she went for the door.

* * *

><p>What did this mean? What was the explanation behind this? Why did the woman in the photograph wear the same pair of glasses Sarada wore?<p>

Her hair was a deep magenta hue, as were her eyes, which were slightly more slanted than her own. But the _glasses_. And she was on that picture, next to her _father_, and she was _smiling_.

What connection existed between these two? Who was that woman, and the strange man on the other side? Why did her mother possess a picture of said person, and why did she somewhat look like Sarada with those glasses?

Her mother...was she even...? Could Sarada even allow herself to consider such an absurd and atrocious reality? Had her own mother, who maybe _was not even her own mother, _kept this secret from her all along? Was that the reason why she could not answer concrete details about her father? Like if he wore spectacles, or what his favourite season was, or which jutsu he had learnt first.

All this time, had she been merely the victim of one wicked, mischievous play all set up by her so-called mother and the people around her? For none of the _other _adults ever denied the _fact_ that she was Uchiha Sasuke's and Uchiha Sakura's child.

_Uchiha...was_ her mother mother even married to the man she claimed to love from the bottom of her heart? Or was that just an illusion to pacify Sarada and make her believe of a near to perfect little family, despite her father's never-ending absence, when in reality everything was broken and shattered and destroyed, yet the shards were merely brushed underneath the carpet so no one would notice the mess?

A sudden, sickening feeling overcame the young Uchiha heir as she clenched the picture with vehemence. She glared down at the red-haired woman, scrutinizing her and wishing with apathy she did not exist. She could destroy everything Sarada ever believed in, which frightened her to the core. Her entire life, a lie, a mirage, a _joke_.

Her bones and limbs filled with rage, trembling beyond her control as her eyes began to prickle and moisten and a million different ideas raced through her mind like a mad marathon.

What should she do? What _could_ she do? Who could help her out and give her answers; facts, without trying to deceive her? Whom could she ask, who would _definitely_ _know_, and would have a hard time in fooling her? Uncle Shikamaru would be a terrible choice; his intellect was far too grand, nor would Old Man Kakashi prove to be much of a help. Despite being funny and sweet and always so endearing that it irked Sarada, he was also very clever.

She doubted aunt Ino, or uncle Chouji; nor uncle Sai would be able to supply her with the answers she now desperately sought.

But uncle _Naruto_ surely could!

Her eyes brightened a little at the realisation. He was the Hokage; the highest authority within Konoha and he was bound to know _everything_ about everyone. Her mother and he were very close, practically like _siblings_, and they both used to be in a team with her father, if she recalled correctly. Was there not a team photograph of them somewhere in the remnants of their former home?

Sarada's eyes scanned the mess feverishly, soon discovering a few colours behind broken glass peeking up. Swift hands retrieved the item, discovering it to be exactly what she had searched for; a picture of Old Man Kakashi, her mother between a displeased uncle Naruto and her grouchy father on the other side.

What had her mother – if she even _was_ her mother – once said about uncle Naruto and her father? _'They share a bond as strong as that of brothers; but with a deeper sense of understanding and acknowledgement'_. That should suffice as proof. Uncle Naruto _had_ to know.

Her legs, albeit shaky, began to move, taking Sarada towards the Hokage tower with increasing speed. She _had _to be stone-faced when confronting uncle Naruto – make him sweat, so that he was forced to spew out the details of her...of her...

Of her heritage.

Faster than lightning could strike, and thus, Boruto could run, she chased through the streets, hopping onto a rooftop and using the tiled, slanted surfaces to jump her way professionally across the town. She was very close to the tower, just one more-

Her foot slipped on a loose tile, causing her to skitter with a shriek as she plummeted down a building and landed with a crash next to a stand full of overripe vegetables.

Sarada winced and hissed as she rubbed her sore leg and slightly sprained ankle, already foreseeing the limp and serious setback she would have in the next days when considering her mobility. _Great_. Did they not have Genin-exams soon? She would _totally_ fail with this injury – despite actually not being interested in excelling in those exams, as she simply saw no purpose in receiving a _hitai-ate_ and improving her ranking.

Dust whirled around her frame, causing her eyes to sting and her vision to blur dreadfully; she often had that. A hazy veil in front of her vision which caused her blindness; for everything turned into blobs of colour, being unrecognisable.

She wondered if the woman on that photograph wore the glasses for the same reason.

Another surge of bile rose up her throat, causing her to gag and wince and nearly cry out in frustration, when a careful hand was placed on her shoulder.

"You alright?" a deep, shudder-causing voice which sounded like it was coated in authority inquired.

The mist of sand-particles began to dissipate and her own vision gradually cleared, allowing for Sarada to peek up at the man who was attempting to help her. She was about to retort something nearly insulting, most likely cursing herself later on for that response as it was highly disrespectful, and the male being in front of her only wanted to help.

Maybe he was a Jonin or an ANBU; definitely someone she had never met-

Her eyes clashed with orbs of a deep, obsidian hue, losing herself in a void she usually only recognized in the mirror during the morning, before she left for school, and sometimes in the reflection of her mother's brilliant emeralds.

_Her mother._

A broader image began to form; next to his oculars also an aristocratic nose, a well-sculpted jaw and jagged, long hair that spiked down his back. When the entire image formed and became recognisable, Sarada felt like shrieking once more.

This man...

The very person standing in front of her, who was currently frowning in confusion himself, staring her down with just as much astonishment as she currently possessed, he looked...

_Exactly like her!_

This could not be. This _could not be_.

"Who're you." The man inquired immediately, his voice empty of any emotions, and Sarada suddenly remembered the stories her mother used to tell her about the mysterious personality that was supposedly her father.

One of a stony demeanour and of suppressed emotionality; one of smirks and rare smiles, often hidden and unnoticed except to her. She had talked about smouldering eyes and rebellious hair, just as in the pictures.

"Sasuke..." She muttered in disbelief, her eyes large and bulging as she still sat there, the pain in her leg forgotten, denial beginning to gnaw at the edges.

"Sasuke?" He quirked an eyebrow, something akin to amusement but also displeasure displayed through his facial expression, "Not really a girl's name." A dark, soothing tone. He had a dark soothing tone.

Tears pricked at her orbs and Sarada no longer fought to keep them back, to seem as stony as an Uchiha was supposed to be.

"You are Sasuke..." Her throat was drying up, clogging close and making breathing increasingly harder. White spots began to swim in front of her vision as everything twisted and turned and spun at an atrocious pace.

He nodded at that, all dread plunging into her stomach, bile rising once more, tears streaming like waterfalls. Everything was a haze. Nothing made sense anymore.

"Who are you?" He inquired once more, speaking the words more clearly and slowly, but is oculars betrayed that he already knew very well who she was. Yet he needed confirmation.

"Who am I?" Sarada somewhat echoed, trying to suppress her hiccups as to not _fully_ lose her dignity in front of her _father_, "I don't know..." she shook her head miserably, sniffing once, "I don't know who I am. Who am I? Why don't you tell me?"

Her response obviously puzzled the elder Uchiha, who frowned in confusion, stepping forward and attempting to help Sarada to her feet, yet she slapped his hand away quite viciously, as if he had been intending on maltreating her, "Who am I!? Who _am_ I!? Who is my _father_? Who is my _mother_!? _Who am I?!"_ she roared at the top of her lungs, her vision completely blurred again due to the never-ending stream of salty tears. Her ears buzzed, her head began to gain weight, her leg throbbed menacingly.

But she needed to run.

So run she did. With what little energy she had, she righted herself and jogged with a terrible limp and excruciating pain, which caused further tears to escape her eyes, away from her so-called father. The mangled image in her hand was chucked behind her, Sarada's concentration solemnly swirling around putting as much distance between herself and her apparent _family._

She did not want this anymore. None of this. Not a single peace.

She did not want to be an Uchiha.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:** Part two will follow today, most likely. I am typing it up right now. Anyone see, by the way, or rather notice, the irony I have induced into my fanfiction right at the beginning of this passage, during the flashback? It is in connection with the first chapter of the new Naruto Gaiden series. If you have noticed it, please do tell me, I'd be delighted to see people figuring it out! But otherwise, don't worry, this is not a literary exam, lol. In general, any review you have to offer to declare your feelings about this shot/situation would be much appreciated! Honestly, they are my food which keep me alive and writing._

_Thanks! *spreads Uchiha love*_


	4. Heritage (Part 2)

_**A/N: **Okay, okay, sorry this is out a little later than planned. I really tried. I came home earlier after uni, sat down, wrote as much as I could, then left again for another lecture. It was stress pure. I was supposed to revise some Japanese history tonight, but I postponed it until tomorrow just to complete this piece of literature. I am making sacrifices here, lol!_

_So please bear with me once more, my dear friends and wonderful readers. There are bound to be mistakes, and I honestly am a little displeased about how rushed this story seems towards the end. Forgive me, my lack of time and of coherent, finite ideas. I still hope it pleases you all, makes sense, and seems like a good conclusion. Also sorry that this part is so much longer, ha ha..._

_Enough babbling; enjoy!_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Heritage (Part 2)<br>**

His mind was racing faster than lightning could strike. Which meant faster than his _chidori_ could induce pain, which was something.

The young girl...she had Uchiha complexions; he needed no bloodtest to confirm the cognation that evidently existed between himself and the child. They were related. Dark eyes, dark hair, that look that dug through concrete. She was his...

The only logical explanation his mind could spew out in the heat of the moment, of all that had occurred in less than two minutes, was one single truth; she was _his_ child. Hence, she was _Sakura's_ child. Thus, when he had left all those years ago to complete the dangerous task he had set himself...

Sakura had been...?

His eyes were as wide as he allowed them to be – flabbergasted by the life-changing news, by the sudden realities that began to reveal themselves, by all that he had suddenly caused; further pain, more loneliness.

Sasuke expected Sakura's anger; her wrath at him for having left _yet again_, wordlessly, after having given her hope of a beautiful life as a family. What else would one think after marriage with the one true love? She had believed all the fighting and secrecy and solitude to be over, yet here Sasuke went, placing a cherry on top of the huge cream-cone that was his disastrous personality.

Sasuke was prepared to never be forgiven; to earn apathy, maybe, in the worst case scenario, to even find Sakura in the arms of someone else, despite how ridiculous it seemed considering her to be his wife. He felt ridiculous for having married her; not because the idea was absurd, for it was not at all; she was his life, even if she was not quite aware of it. He wanted to spend every morning seeing her immaculate face and marvel at the feminine beauty she possessed, but it was atrocious of him to have her bound to his never-present form; to tie her to his greedy persona. Simply put, it was a selfish act of his, in which he wanted to claim her, to make sure the world knew of her belonging to him, despite him being absent and not giving her the love and adoration she more than deserved.

He had married her because he wanted her; _still wants_ her. But he cannot be with her, because life is a series of horrible tasks and constant fights and he was the lonesome hero that fought under a veil, always maintaining peace, never being seen, never stationary.

Why was it so hard? To complete both desires; that of justifying his actions, of preserving the equality in the world he and Naruto and _so many others_ had fought with blood and sweat for, and of living a normal, wonderful family life with the _one person_ who loved him unconditionally.

He would never find someone like her again. Not in a million years would he ever receive the same, in-depth love he currently owned. He should feel blessed, honoured, like god himself.

Yet all he could return was pain. Conflicted to the marrow, Sasuke grimaced as the image of the injured girl flickered inside his mind; his daughter, Sakura had been pregnant, had had a child, raised her _without him_, in solitude, with all the pain and suffering she underwent, in silent wailing, without him there to aid her. He had wanted to leave her with blissful memories; a broken heart, he knew, but with the knowledge of his love. Instead, he left her with a child and a duty too much to bear on one single pair of shoulders.

Sasuke took a careful step forwards, his sandal crunching something other than dusted earth. He averted his onyx orbs to the ground, discovering a tattered image under his foot. Carefully, he raised his shoe and picked up the piece of thick paper.

It was an image of himself with Team Taka. Well, Juugo was not present, but Suigetsu and Karin were. The latter stood, blushing, next to him, whilst the he had his usual, stony facial expression and Suigetsu had that mischievous glint in his eyes that he always owned.

The Uchiha was irritated. Why did his daughter carry such a photograph with her, and why did it seemingly disturb her so much that she questioned her heritage? What had Sakura told her about her birth, and her father? For a curt second, Sasuke began to worry about the possible relationship he and his child might have considering all the terrible things Sakura might have told her; but then he chuckled. What an absurd thought. She was _Sakur__a_, not _Karin-_

Wait. _Karin_. He furrowed his brows, scrutinizing her glasses and realising that the younger Uchiha had worn pretty much the exact same pair. Why did she...

There was no doubt she was Sakura's daughter. Sasuke would know; he knew with whom he had...well, with whom he had a more intimate relationship, and that was _definitely_ not Karin. Sure, she had been _infatuat__ed_ with him, more so than Sakura had been in her younger years, but other than a trivial friendship and a specific amount of gratitude he owed her as well as some respect, there was nothing else. He doubted she truthfully _loved him_, believed it was simply a near to psychotic obsession, and had otherwise dismissed her character as just, well, _Karin_. He did not hate her. Neither did he love her.

And never would he get intimate with her.

So why was the young girl so disturbed? It must obviously be a misunderstanding.

Sighing with a tremble of his hands, for he had not eaten since two days, nor rested much, nor felt overly comfortable with the situation, Sasuke trudged to what he knew to be his home.

There, he would face Sakura, and he would lie if he claimed to not dread the meeting. He had no problem in facing her wrath; in letting her pound him into the ground, in roaring and shouting and punching. But he would never be ready for her sorrow; the moment she would begin to cry, to display her anguish so openly, he would crack with her. He would feel his heart rot within his ribcage, would sense the unworthiness that was him. He would be no better than filth. And now, with this twist of events, things would get a whole lot more precarious.

Nonetheless, he yearned for his wife; for answers, for truths, thus he hurried to his house with quickened steps, soon pouncing from rooftop to rooftop until he reached his-

A fierce amount of rubble and shattered remnants of a once intact house encountered him. He saw their shelter reduced to pieces. Sasuke's heart jerked violently, fear and foreboding theories clogging his mind as he could only _guess_ what horrible circumstance could have possibly led to this.

Had Sakura and his daughter been assaulted? Were there fiends within Konoha, possibly chasing down the solemn heir of the Uchiha clan? Had Sasuke failed in his mission to make the world a safer place?

"Sakura!" It was idiotic, calling her when she clearly was not around, or would not hear him if she were buried underneath the shrapnel. Yet he sensed no presence. She was not...no, she was _not._

With a sickening churn of his stomach and a beginning boil of his blood, Sasuke darted at incredible speed towards the Hokage tower; the Dobe would supply him with answers, would know what had happened. That was the first and most logical assumption he could come up with; when in doubt, seek the central power of a place. Naruto would know.

He better pray to every existent guardian god if he did _not_.

The Uchiha's feet skittered on the surfaces he jostled from, wind piping in his ears aggravatingly as he closed in on his destination. Houses and people as well as voices rushed by in a blurry haze, nothing being as clear as the contours of that one particular building and the image of a beautiful, rose-haired woman with a smile that could melt icebergs.

_'Sakura...'_

He put particular pressure on his last jump, landing right at the window of Naruto's office which he kicked open violently, the glass vibrating with a threat of exploding before he steadied himself on the windowsill.

Naruto had turned around in that precise moment, his body poised to block and defend and then attack, but his azure oculars widened incredibly upon the sight that met him. He was paralysed for several seconds, before his voice returned.

"T-Teme!?"

"Where is Sakura?" His tone was cold, his face determined and with building anger. No one except Naruto would be able to tell at that moment.

The blonde relaxed, one brow raised irritatedly, "Nice to see you too, bastard, after what? _Twelve years_."

"I have no time for formalities. Where is Sakura?" He was getting increasingly impatient, could feel the urge to _punish_ arise and suppressed it with his entire will.

"Err...well she's not home since she wrecked her house, I just got that report." Naruto leaned over towards his desk, retrieving a few documents with his bandaged arm as he thumbed his way leisurely through, "I'm not sure where she is right now, though."

His at-ease attitude began to piss Sasuke off to quite an extent. The obsidian-haired male jumped down the ledge, fingers clenching unwillingly as he walked towards the blonde and glared him down, "Naruto, I need to know where-"

"Shishidaime!" The door burst open, the image of a rather annoyed Shikamaru entering as two young children trailed after him.

One looked the splitting image of Shikamaru, with minor details different, such as the eyes, whilst the other...

"Boruto! Don't tell me you pranked someone _again_. Weren't you playing with a shadow clone of mine...?" Naruto quirked an eyebrow once more, the documentations in his hands forgotten as well as the angrily towering Uchiha next to him.

All three of the newcomers now stared in astonishment at Sasuke, who glanced nonchalantly at them. Evidently, his daughter was not the only member of the next generation. He had already suspected to find Uzumaki brats running around once he returned; that the Dobe had built up a relationship with Hinata, finally. Yet he was surprised to find the overly calculated Nara to actually be in a wedlock. Did he not claim all females to be troublesome?

In return, both Shikadai and Boruto stared at him with grand fascination. Even the terribly lazy Shikamaru was astounded and actually displayed a facial expression _other_ than detachment. The two children, however, were analysing Sasuke with interest, evidently wondering _who_ this man was and why he currently stood next to the Hokage in rather disrespectful proximity.

"Sasuke." Shikamaru stated more than asked, obscure eyes boring into his counterpart as his hands glided into his pockets.

"Shikamaru." Sasuke responded, feeling his nerves go on overdrive as he was wasting more and more time with greetings and formalities – time in which Sakura could be at some place, in danger, suffering, and his daughter had run god-knows-where.

"Uchiha Sasuke, as in, Sarada's father?" Shikadai now concluded, eyes large in astonishment as he focused in the Uchiha with as much interest as Shino-Sensei might devote to a new bug-type.

"Sarada?" He was haunted by a heart-aching memory of a brilliant night, in which Sakura had uttered _just_ that name, albeit jokingly. He could not believe she actually...

Was this her form of revenge?

"Aah...yes..." Naruto began to scratch the back of his skull sheepishly, feeling the pressure rise, "You see-"

"Her name is Sarada – Sakura's and my daughter?"

"Y-You have met!?" With large orbs, he blinked several times, sweat beginning to accumulate on his forehead.

"Five minutes ago. Where is Sakura?" He began to _loathe_ this entire situation with a passion. He was wasting _too much time_. Why could the Dobe not _speak and explain himself!? _

"Hey hey! Don't you _dare_ blame Sakura-chan for you not knowing of your daughter's existence; she had no chance of contacting you, after all!" Naruto intervened, protecting his much-cherished team-mate with a glare, "She had a hard time-"

"_No_, idiot. The house is destroyed, Sarada is distressed. _Where is Sakura?" _He would spew fire any second from now. If Naruto did not supply him with the necessary answers, in the name of all that could be considered holy, he would _beat_ the bloody-

"She was at Shizune's." The little blonde boy, Boruto, threw in casually, his face the perfect imitation of Naruto's, "She fainted after she destroyed her house. Got into an argument with Sara or something..." trailing off, he redirected his tender eyes towards the ground.

Sasuke's stare was severely intimidating.

Without a further word having been spoken, Sasuke was about to dart through the window through which he had entered, determined to seek out Shizune, when he remembered that he did not know where exactly the elderly woman lived.

The confusion must have been displayed openly, for Boruto immediately commented on it, "I could take you there."

An unexpected clap of a hand onto the Uchiha's back followed as Naruto grinned his goofish way, "Good idea! You take Sasuke to Sakura-chan whilst I sort out the annoying paperwork here. I'm sure she is fine." There was something reassuring in Naruto's eyes as he looked meaningful at his former comrade and best friend, smiling delicately.

Boruto led the way as Sasuke exited after him, using the door instead. Shikamaru glanced critically after the dark-haired male, until the door was shut and he heard the footsteps fading rapidly.

"There will be a lot of trouble in the next few days." Shikamaru sighed, and his son mimicked the action.

"Yeah, the entire academy is not going to shut up about it."

"It's great to have Teme back." Naruto was seated in his chair by now, arms crossed behind his neck as he glanced near to dreamily at the ceiling, one leg draped over the other, "Sakura-chan will be very happy."

Several seconds of silence intervened, until Shikamaru scowled, "Get back to work, you _lazy_ _ass_."

* * *

><p>There was a moment of utter silence before all emotions began to course through their eyes, only to be viewed by the equivalent other, yet both parties managed to catch themselves adequately. It was a curt amount of time in which there simply existed staring and realisation, in which there was no movement, no response, not even a breath being taken.<p>

Sakura had a stack of hospital files clutched in her arms which were gradually gaining in weight. She felt them slide, knew they would clatter onto the floor any given second if she were not careful.

She was.

Collecting herself with as much strength as she could muster, the rosette shut her eyes briefly, frowning with the action before her verdant orbs focused on Sasuke with resolute determination.

"What are you doing here?" Was the only question that left her lips; the only words that decided to come together to form a coherent sentence. Everything else was lost to her rationality.

Sasuke had more or less expected such a response. It did not hinder him from being heavily relieved, his muscles relaxing as he slacked in position, something minutely similar to a smile gracing his lips.

"You are okay." He stated, not moving nor intending on decreasing the precise two metres of distance between them.

Sakura furrowed an eyebrow, "Of course I am..." Her hair had been tied up in a messy tangle of strands, held together securely by a clasp. Her lips were tainted the faintest of red colours, the diamond-shaped seal upon her forehead nearly glowing a deep lilac.

"He means because your house is in ruins." Boruto piped in, still present as he stood leisurely next to the elder Uchiha. He was far too curious about the situation as to leave already.

The young child knew this was none of his personal business, but prying had always been a hobby of his, and despite him not showing it on the outside, he _did_ care for Sarada. So if her father had just returned, for the first time since her birth, then she was surely heavily impacted by it. He feared the outcome of the entire scenario, thus decided to gather as much information as he could get a grasp on. Maybe he would be an aid at one point, if only to Sarada. He did not care much for the others, anyway.

Despite him not getting to spend as much time with his father, whom, secretly, Boruto admired from the bottom of his heart, he at least got to _see_ him and interact occasionally. Sarada had none of that. He could only somewhat sympathize with her.

Sakura nodded in understanding, her eyes glancing about before she took in a deep, measured breath, "Oh...yeah, just...an accident. It's okay." The medical ninja raised her head slightly, glancing with a smile at Boruto, "Thanks for bringing him to me, Boruto, you can go back home now."

Obviously the Uchiha matriarch did not want the young boy to have to indulge into their upcoming argument. Sasuke knew there would be an argument. How else could it be?

Reluctantly, and with a pout, the blonde left, retreating with slow steps down the corridor before he was finally out of sight and, thus, out of ear-shot.

"Follow me." Sakura spoke sternly as she marched past her husband and along a different route.

Mutely, he trudged behind her, cutting several corners and passing by too many white doors to count them all before he was met with one broader, darker entrance, which gave way to an office.

Sakura's office. She had opened the door, slammed down her files and then turned around, leaning against the edge of her desk as she crossed her arms over her white coat.

"Welcome back, Sasuke-kun." She spoke sarcastically as he now faced her.

"I'm sorry." Did that sound pathetic? Moronic? Fake?

It was true to the core; it was what he had wanted to tell her over and over again all these years. It was the first thing to enter his mind.

"I'm _sorry_!?" Her eyes had widened incredulously, her lips parted in horror as Sakura leaned forwards, disbelieving of his words, "_Wow_, Sasuke-kun, _great_ start! That promises something!"

He scowled, "What do you want me to say?"

"Try the _truth_." She bit back cuttingly.

"It _is_ the truth."

"Don't go telling me you've been thinking this all these years you've been gone." She knew him too well. She was probably not even aware of it, but she had him figured out already.

He did not reply, simply gazed at her, consuming her form with as much details as he could get his brain to remember. It felt so good seeing her. The perfect curving of her cheeks, down her slanted neck, her body poised readily. If only he could touch her...

"Sasuke-kun, this- No. You left. _Again_. I can't just-" biting her lower lip ferociously, Sakura avoided his penetrating gaze, her eyebrows creasing as she tried to find the right words, but was left mute.

"I met Sarada." Sasuke thus stated, wanting to get to the centre of this debate.

Immediately, Sakura's face slackened as she redirected her large, immaculate emeralds at him, all colour draining her already pale skin. She shook her head lackadaisically.

"No...not already..."

"I ran into her. She seemed distressed."

"_Obviously_! She has been waiting to meet you her _entire life_!"

"I'm not sure that's why she was so riled up." Carefully, dangerously, _bravely_, he took a step forward.

Sakura twisted her head in confusion, "Why _else_?"

A quick grasp into his pocket and he retrieved the mangled photograph of the former team Taka, handing it to Sakura. He was horrifically careful as to _not_ stroke her fingers. Albeit desiring nothing else, he knew the effect such a simple act could have on him. Especially after all these years.

She took it with a shaky hand, despite her desperately trying to conceal that factor. Her eyes glared down at it, recognizing the image to be from her personal belongings. That used to stand in her house...

"Where did you get this from?" Her voice was a higher pitch than she intended to make it.

"Sarada had it with her. She was asking who her father was, and her _mother _as well. What have you told her?"

Sakura gradually raised her critical face to look at him, searching those abysses he had as oculars to find the underlying implication. But he seemed as genuinely irritated as she was.

"That she is the daughter of the biggest moron this world ever has seen, what else?" Her dry sarcasm graced him.

"So she is Naruto's child?"

She laughed airily for a second, shaking her head and suppressing the smile that curled around her lips. Uchiha Sasuke, attempting to crack a joke. At _this_ point in time. Someone needed to document this day right now, for all eternity, for it was a historical moment.

"I told her she is Uchiha Sasuke's daughter; last heir of the Uchiha clan, brave ninja, saviour, and my husband." There was something dreamy about the way she described him then and there, whilst avoiding his intense gaze and simply staring off into space. She was currently somewhere far, far away, he could tell, "I said that..." Sakura hesitated, a melancholic atmosphere engulfing her as she contemplated her words carefully, "her father...is on an important mission and that he will come home as quickly as possible..." she trailed off, her voice dying down as she glanced at the ground, her stray bangs hiding her face from him.

She was not even quite as wrong with that explanation as she thought she was.

"But she knows she is _your_ daughter?"

Sakura now glared at him, "Of _course_ she does!"

"Then what about the glasses?"

More puzzled than before, she shrugged questioningly, until Sasuke pointed with his nose towards the picture she still held in her hands. Another quick peek told her what he implied, causing her eyes to widen once more that day.

"Oh..." the rosette gulped down a heavy amount of air, "We need to find her." was what she threw in next, already heading towards the exit.

Sasuke did not retort, but followed instead, just as adamant as Sakura in seeking out the young girl.

* * *

><p>She was perplexed when he had grasped her hand, pulling her through the streets at a terribly fast pace, his grip a vice on her fingers.<p>

Sarada tried to protest, to inquire what he was doing, even wanted to slap him for being so bold and well..._Boruto_, but there was simply no time to do any of those things. Not even the throbbing of her twisted leg nor sprained ankle seemed to matter in that moment.

They moved too fast, his hand felt too comforting and her heart beat too rapidly as for her to find the _courage_ to retort, no matter how grand the temptation was. It was not until several minutes had passed, Boruto tearing her through an arrangement of streets, when they reached their destination.

He tugged her onto a small, shabby rooftop, then skipped onto a bigger building with a minor tower placed in the middle. Finally, the Uzumaki let go of her hand, ushering her to be silent, but to follow. Sarada simply complied, peeking around the corner of the tower just as Boruto glanced past the painted brick and stained tiles.

As she followed his line of view, slightly distressed and still sniffing from the heavy onslaught of tears she had encountered mere seconds before Boruto had just _g__rabbed_ her and tugged her along, she saw what he meant.

This was a building adjacent to her home; to what was _left_ of it, at least. And there, amid the rubble, stood her mother as well as her father, clambered along the stacks of rubble and checking behind every cracked wall, a heavy argument growing between them.

Again, Boruto indicated with his index finger for her to be silent and merely listen, which she did.

"Did you not _tell_ her that she is your daughter?"

"Of _course_ I did!" Sakura roared at him, kicking a few shambles to the side, her agitated form shaking, "Sarada!" She felt ridiculous for calling her; she knew the girl would not come.

"Then why does she _doubt_ it?" The onyx-haired man lifted a few wall-pieces, carefully placing them to the side. He attempted to flatten out the level of destruction, so that he could get a somewhat clearer overview of everything. That would make finding Sarada easier, because she would have less hiding-space.

"Because of the glasses? I don't _know_!" There was doubt and hesitation within her voice.

"This is ridiculous, Sakura." He stepped towards her, glaring angrily, "Why would she think she is _Karin's_ daughter? Glasses or no glasses, why would she have reason to believe something so _absurd_?"

Sakura just shrugged, too afflicted to form a coherent thought and respond with something adequate.

"We are married, does she not know that?" He stated with a cold, factual tone.

"She does. She knows."

"Then why-"

"_Why_, Sasuke, _why!? _ Maybe because you are _never there!?" _Without warning nor control, Sakura began to lash out with a full streak of emotions, scowling at her husband, "To her...you are just a _myth_! You are something from stories! I have no photographs of us two to show her how _great_ I believed our time together to be, because you _took them all_. And I cannot convince her of us being married because there is _no_ evidence of your life being connected to mine except for the stamp in my heart that you made before you vanished! And I cannot _tell_ her what her father likes or dislikes because I do not want to see her all shattered when she realises that...that...she might just never meet this man who is _so much like her_. She is sad _every day_ and I cannot help it. I...I sometimes regret having told her about you. Every detail that I reveal makes her feel worse and worse...so I've decided to just...play dumb." she was panting by now, her eyes misting over with glittering liquid as the first tear tumbled down her cheek, "But a wife is supposed to know those things about her own husband...and tell her child...but I cannot. I know you Sasuke, but I also _don't know_ you...and...and I'm scared that that'll break Sarada because..." hiccups were winning over, her lips trembling at an atrocious pace as she let the sorrow overtake.

Sasuke's expression softened. This was the moment he had feared the most since his return; the moment of break-down. It was far worse than what he had had prayed it not to be; he felt himself shrink on the inside, felt his guts twist agonizingly as his stomach lurched.

"Sakura..." he muttered, stepping towards her with a tender step.

"_No." _The Uchiha matriarch sniffed, wiping her nose vehemently, "W-We have to find Sarada, s-she-"

"Sakura, I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't cut it, Sasuke-kun." Another sniff, before she turned to have her back facing him, "In all those years, did you ever _think_ of me? Of coming home? Of what you did and the _impact_ it had on my life?"

He did not respond to her questions, but waited, for he knew she had yet not finished.

"All these years, I have waited and waited and waited. I waited the first time you left, I waited after you made it clear you would not return; no matter _how_ many times you tried to cut the ties with us, I kept waiting and hoping and-" She hiccuped strongly, the back of her hand pressed painfully against her lips, "No matter how many times I tried to convince myself that I did not love you, I failed. And all the hurt, and all the _waiting; _I don't want Sarada to know a single bit of it. I don't _want_ her to think badly of you just because you are not there. I want you to be her hero, and I want her to have faith, but now I'm realising that she is going through the _same_ _crap_ I went through and it's _breaking me_, Sasuke-kun. It just...has to _stop_."

Finally, with trembling legs, the rosette gradually twisted her body around and began to reveal her drenched face, her sparkling eyes and all the salty liquid that stained her reddened cheeks. All agony was viewable to him, and he hated it. No. He _despised_ it.

"Please, Sasuke-kun...y-you can break my heart all over again but _please_" she began to shake her head beseechingly, "don't do the same to your daughter."

It was the final droplet of water in the brimming bucket needed to break down his resolve; for him to keep a distance and respect her privacy, her feelings, her desire to come to terms with _everything_. No longer heeding the wish for solitude she had silently spoken, as paradox as the thought was, he stepped forward and engulfed her into his arms.

Sakura found herself firmly pressed against his chest, feeling the beating of his radical heart and the warmth he actually radiated like any normal human being. He felt so _real_. She let him embrace her; let him do as he pleased as she succumbed to him and no longer halted her feelings from pouring out _completely_. The crying grew louder.

His lips were pressed against the shell of her left ear, his voice a soothing caress made out of velvet and reminiscent of a flowing river, "I left because I had to. This world, Sakura, is not as safe as it should be, and I have done many evil things to many innocent people. Staying with you, here, would have ultimately cost you your life. So I left on a special mission, and I took all evidence of our coexistence with me to protect you from harm, yet also to remind myself of its existence. It was my anchor, all these years, believe me. Nothing will ever excuse the fact that I was gone, but _believe_ _me_ when I say I did it for you; because if I lose you..."

She doubted he had ever spoken so many words in such a curt amount of time; she loved every second of it. His sincere tone of voice, the sentiments he revealed by it. It was so out of the world, so bizarre that it appeared meticulous.

"Sakura..." he began anew, pressing her more firmly against his form. She did not resist the intimacy, "I love you. And I will never allow anyone to take you away from me, nor Sarada. I swear on the name of the Uchiha."

He could feel the tears staining his coat and shirt; the fluids were sinking in, drenching him, her fingers curling agonizingly against his clothes, her entire body one single tremble. All of a sudden, she had her arms wrapped around his back, hugging him as tightly as she could without disrupting her breathing.

After many minutes of muffled wailing, the verdant-eyed female distanced her face a little from his chest, muttered a mumbled "I hate you" at him before she returned into his embrace.

Sasuke smirked, "I know." He kissed her brow.

When finally her heaving had calmed down and she was capable of forming coherent words once more, her body not quite as much a wreck anymore as it had been, Sakura spoke anew, louder and clearer than before, "We still need to find Sarada. I need to explain-"

"I'm here."

The Uchiha parents both stood still on top of the pile of destructed furniture, glancing over towards the edge of the conundrum where their little girl stood, puffy-eyed herself and with a shy air around her.

Boruto was several metres behind her, peeking at them with hesitant orbs, evidently unsure if his presence was appreciated or not.

Sakura completely unwound herself from her husband, stumbling towards the younger Uchiha as she landed on her knees in front of her and wrapped Sarada into a mangling hug, "Sara-chan!"

The girl complied, returning the display of emotions as fresh, boiling tears were shed once more, "I'm sorry, Mama, I-"

"What happened to your leg!?" Cool hands dove for the scarlet blemish and earned a wince for the action, "I need to see to that immediately."

"Mama, it's okay, I just-"

"Don't you _ever_ just run away like that; where no one can find you!" Sakura now roared in strict scolding, completely changing the topic before it was lost upon her. Afterwards, she smiled tenderly once more, "And don't forget that I love you."

Her daughter blushed, avoiding her mother's keen eyes, "I know...I was just...the woman on the photograph."

"Has the same glasses as you, I know."

Behind them, footsteps were audible; Sasuke was gradually trudging towards them.

"Why do I look like her?" Sarada was still perturbed, pleading eyes begging her mother _not_ to tell her something dreadful; something that would kill her to know.

Yet Sakura merely smiled with a meaningful glance, her fingers delicately grasping the spectacles and pulling them off with a light tug. Once they were off, and Sarada's world became a slightly fuzzy realm of dodging colourings, Sakura spoke again. And she realised, for the first time, that her mother's eyes were as clear as daylight despite the absence of her seeing-guide.

"When you were just born, Tsunade-Shishou stated that, just like a true Uchiha, you would inherit the Sharingan. But with no Uchiha to teach you how to activate it, and because of a slight malfunction you were born with, Shishou claimed that your eyesight might suffer and begin to deteriorate. She stated that you would need glasses to see later in life." Sakura hesitated, observing as her one and only child gazed in open mesmerization at the pinkette, "Karin...your father's former team-mate, she was still in Konoha at the time of your birth. Well, she had been gone in the meantime, but returned for a few weeks. We...did not get along too well, because she liked your Papa a lot, but he chose _me_, not _her_. Yet despite all..._bad_ _blood_," Sakura frowned at this, unsure how to formulate everything without it sounding like a ridiculous children's tale, "Karin wanted to reconcile. I was alone with you, your father gone. There was no way of telling him; of getting him back. She sympathized, and told me she wanted you to have her glasses. She wanted to do _something_ for the Uchiha; so if it was not to love one, then at least to aid one in some way. It's like...this allows her to leave a piece of herself with the Uchiha clan, as strange as that might sound. That she was actually useful, and won't be forgotten."

Gradually, the shorter, dark-haired female nodded, somewhat understanding the implications made by her mother, "So...I am _not_ her child?"

The Uchiha matriarch laughed, "Look at you, Sarada. You don't really look like her without the glasses." Earning only a hesitant, slightly frightened expression in return, Sakura continued with a playful shake of the head, "No, you are _my_ child, for sure! You just possess her glasses; it's something you _inherited, _more or less. Something she left behind in order to be remembered."

"That's...strange." Sakura returned the spectacles to her daughter, the smile not leaving her lips.

"I know. But I found it an earnest request, so when she asked me to do it, I complied. But trust me, you have _my _complexions, not _hers_."

Sasuke, who had been listening in on the conversation this entire time, shook his head slightly. An awry thing for a person to plead for, yet the act very much sounded like something Karin would do; she was strange and possessed a rather abstract personality, so why not? He saw no harm in it; the glasses were quite normal. And without them, Sarada was every bit Sakura's daughter; he could see it perfectly clear.

"She wanted to help me out, thus left me those glasses?" Sarada summed up, still critical, but gradually grasping the concept of it all and beginning to accept it as the truth.

Her mother nodded with a heart-warming smile, "Yes, she did."

"Is...that the reason my sight goes fuzzy sometimes?"

Another nod.

Sarada shyly glanced up at her _father_, analysing his features and attempting to find herself within them. In all honesty, she saw nothing of herself in him, but she saw everything of her mother; the shape of her face, nose and eyes, the slanting of her brows and hair and the emotionality they both liked to display.

"I could have taken it, you know." She now threw in, a saddened smile forming on her lips, "The truth about Papa, I mean..."

With a tender kiss to her brow, Sakura bobbed her head once more, "I know..." she whispered with a melancholic grin, "You are stronger than me, and I nearly forgot that. I guess I was just frightened of hurting you. Forgive me?"

She slitted her eyes, staring her mother down, before she attempted another, brief peek at her father, "Only if we're having _omuraisu_ with tomatoes tonight."

Sakura laughed heartily at her daughter, "Of course." Standing up, the pinkette dusted herself off, before she turned quite officially to Sasuke, "Sara-chan, meet your father, Uchiha Sasuke."

Now standing directly in front of the male Uchiha, the girl got to realise just how _minuscule_ she was in comparison. Several head were missing before she would _ever _stand on physical eye-level with him.

"So, this is the biggest moron the world ever has seen?" the trade-mark Uchiha smirk now graced her lips, whilst Sasuke frowned at his wife questioningly, who was rather perplexed.

"I never-!" She began to defend, yet was interrupted.

"No, Boruto did. He heard that."

Realisation dawning on both parties, Sakura began to giggle sweetly into her hand, the mellifluous sound reminiscent of one very specific night she and her husband had spent together.

Sasuke merely grimaced in displeasure at the mentioning of the _insult_.

Then, he decided to mimic his wife's earlier actions and squatted in front of the frail-looking child; _his_ child.

"Hello there." He uttered as tenderly as he could, a rare smile greeting her.

She liked it very much.

"Hi...Papa."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **So...err, sorry for Sasuke being OOC, and for the ending to be...strange? I saw it fit to end there, as I feared any further typing might give it a cheesy, cliché ending that, once I realised just how stupid it actually is, I'd have to hide myself in shame for all eternity. I guess I am satisfied with this. Not my best work, I know; I am terribly tired from all the running around I did today and all the work. Just like you guys, I am intrigued to see how Kishimoto will resolve his...dilemma in the Gaiden chapters. He better make it epic.  
><em>

_So, I would gladly like to know what you think of this, if it is not too ridiculous. I just saw the whole Karin-handing-over-her-glasses-as-a-symbol-of-her-love adequate. She is quirky, this act is something quirky, she would definitely do something quirky. I hope you all did not laugh too much. Don't forget, SS is canon and Sarada IS Sakura's child. Kishimoto stated it several times. The Gaiden, I believe, is merely to kick all doubters in the ASS (any high five's for my pathetic pun here? No? Ha, okay...) _

_I want to thank you all for the WONDERFUL reviews I got; I love hearing from you, you are really fantastic and make me all enthusiastic about writing. I hope you will also review this installment. I love hearing your thoughts and feelings, after all! Thank you! *spreads some Uchiha lurv* _


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